


Distance (Makes the Heart Grow Fonder)

by orphan_account



Series: KageSuga Week 2015 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: KageSuga Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koushi reflects on how he feels as Tobio goes away for months to play volleyball with the National team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distance (Makes the Heart Grow Fonder)

**Author's Note:**

> For the first time in my life, I couldn't come up with a proper summary.
> 
>  **EDIT:** I did change the summary just a bit because I was sleep-deprived when I first wrote it. It's probably a good example of why I shouldn't post stories when I'm tired.
> 
> KageSuga Week Day 1: Being Together. (Kind of.)

Distance (Makes the Heart Grow Fonder)

It’s around this time that volleyball puts distance in their relationship, but Koushi wouldn’t have it any other way.

Of course, it’s difficult to be alone in the apartment for a couple of months whilst Tobio’s off playing volleyball for the Japanese National team, yet Koushi can never envision himself asking Tobio to choose between them, or give volleyball up.

So it’s during these months where volleyball season is in full swing that he cooks for one, cleans up after one, and goes to sleep in a huge bed alone. His laptop is always open, and Skype is always loaded, so that when Tobio gets a free chance he can call Koushi and they can catch up. Koushi knows Tobio tries to call at least once a day, but his schedule is never guaranteed to be the same every day, so Koushi knows not to let himself get his hopes up.

Is it hard to be alone for so long? Sure, of course it is. Watching your long-term boyfriend play on the television, only being able to talk to him via webcam, only touching a computer screen when you want to feel his face, is difficult.

But even though he can never see Tobio’s face on the television, Koushi knows he’s over the moon about playing, touching the ball and running around the court, assisting his teammates to victory. When Koushi sees Tobio over Skype, his expression is calm but his eyes are gleaming with warmth and happiness.

Besides, the volleyball season always ends around the same time, and Tobio always comes back to him. Also, the reunion sex is great; they’re lucky to reach the bed, and usually just have sex on whatever surface they can get to the quickest.

Just as Koushi’s about to slip off his plain grey shirt and go to bed, the computer in the living room alerts him to a Skype call, and all thoughts of sleep are immediately banished. He sprints from the room, almost banging his knee into the bedpost.

“Hey,” says Tobio, smiling, appearing on the screen just seconds after Koushi accepted the call. “How are you? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“I’m good, and no, you didn’t wake me. Although if you called five minutes later, I probably would’ve been asleep. How was the game?”

“Difficult,” says Tobio through a heavy sigh. “But fun.”

“So the usual then?” replies Suga, smiling cheekily, resting his chin on his palm.

“Pretty much. If all goes well, we’ll make it to the finals.”

“You’re a good team. There’s no way you won’t make it.”

Tobio’s grown more efficient at smiling with his eyes over the years, and that’s what he does now. Koushi tries not to melt. He’s missed that expression so much, and it’s one of his personal favourites.

“Thanks. But anyway, what’s been happening on your end?”

They talk for an hour with minimal interruptions; any teammates of Tobio’s that come in quickly leave with an apology on their lips when they see he’s chatting to Koushi. Koushi’s met a couple of them at dinners and charity functions that Tobio and the rest of the team attends on the off-season, but a few of them he’s never seen before.

“I wish I was there with you,” Koushi admits later on. He’s sleepy and his eyelids are heavy. “I hate having to go to bed alone.”

Tobio’s expression twists apologetically. “I’m sorry. I know I ask you to put up with a lot for the sake of my career—”

“I’m not mad or upset,” Koushi says quickly. “That’s not it at all. Whenever I see you play on the television, it makes me really happy, because I can tell how much you love standing on the court. It’s just that … when you go, I kinda wish I could go with you. I’m not gonna lie, it does get lonely.”

“I’ll be home soon,” Tobio promises.

“Don’t make it too soon.” Koushi grins. “I wanna brag to everyone we know that I’m dating a champion.”

Tobio nods seriously, and Koushi feels affection blossom in his chest. “We’ll win, definitely. Then I’m all yours for the next six months or so.”

“I can’t wait for that,” says Koushi, his laugh coming out more like a sigh. He wants to fall asleep and wake up beside Tobio once again, and make breakfast for two instead of one. He wants to snuggle up on the couch watching old English musicals with Japanese subtitles and listen to Tobio hum along with the tune. “Hurry up and win already.”

“I’ll do my best. But you look like you’re about to fall asleep against the table,” Tobio points out, his voice coloured with concern. “I’ll try and call tomorrow afternoon, alright?”

Koushi nods. “Yeah. I’m actually really tired right now, not gonna lie.” He yawns widely, rubbing his eyes with his fists. “I love you, okay? And I’m so proud of you. That won’t change if you win the championships or not. Just have fun out there and come back home to me in one piece, alright?”

“I will. I love you, Koushi. Go to bed before you fall asleep there.”

Sighing, Koushi kisses his fingertips and touches them to the webcam. It’s a poor substitute for an actual kiss, but for now they’ll just have to make do with that.

“Night, night,” he says through yet another yawn. “Love you.”

“Goodnight, Koushi. Love you too. Have a good sleep.” With a tiny smile, Tobio waves and disconnects the call.

The room suddenly feels emptier, lonelier. Tobio hasn’t been in the house in a couple of months, but each time they talk over Skype, Koushi forgets that he’s not actually home. Forgets that for now he’s alone—until the call ends, and he’s abruptly tugged back to reality.

“Just a few more months and he’s back home again,” he tells himself, taking off his shirt and dropping it on the floor; he’ll pick it up in the morning, but for now he’s just too lonely and tired. He crawls into bed and wraps the blankets around him like a cocoon. “Just a few more months …”


End file.
